


you know how to make my day

by altissimozucca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Charles loves him nonetheless, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Max tries to cook for Charles but fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:24:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altissimozucca/pseuds/altissimozucca
Summary: “Let’s hope this works,” Max said out loud, mentally reciting the numbers of his emergency contacts in the case of an accident.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 9
Kudos: 102





	you know how to make my day

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff is something I don't see much of with this ship... I decided to change that.

** Charles had been** in Maranello for the past few days, leaving Max by himself in Monaco to try and come up with a way to make his boyfriend feel better about the mess of a race he’d had in Brazil.

It wasn’t uncommon that the Dutchman did something to surprise his lover, be it with a gift, a carefully thought-out date or some late-night cuddles he knew Charles needed more often than not; Max wasn’t complaining, though – he was cuddly and enjoyed being spooned, to Charles’ amusement.

The day Charles was supposed to be coming back, Max had been feeling giddy and whistled softly to himself as cleaned the mess he’d made around the flat during the few days his boyfriend was gone. The empty Red Bull cans, leftover pizza and one broken controller from a particularly bad FIFA game have been replaced by a bottle of fine red wine, scented candles and sweet pastries from the local shop.

Max knew it wasn’t enough to show Charles just how much he meant to him.

The Dutchman sighed, running a hand through his hair while trying to think of something to do for Charles; something that wasn’t basically just cleaning up the mess he’d created. He remembered something his mum told Victoria with him present. _“The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,”_ she had said.

Max already had Charles’ heart, but a little fine dining couldn’t hurt. There was one important problem, though – Max was absolutely and utterly horrible at cooking; he had been eating takeout all the time Charles was gone and even though his boyfriend wasn’t a five-star chef either, he was at least able to make something without burning down the flat.

Still, he went out to the local supermarket and picked up some ingredients for what would hopefully be an edible meal. When he came back into the flat, he laid out the meat, pasta, vegetables and spices on the kitchen counter and googled how to make some easy dishes using the ingredients he had.

“Let’s hope this works,” Max said out loud, mentally reciting the numbers of his emergency contacts in the case of an accident.

\- - - -

After a few days in Maranello in the simulator and various meetings and briefings, Charles was ready to get back home and just sleep with Max in his arms. He walked up the stairs to their flat, carrying his suitcase with one hand while holding the bannister with the other; somewhere around the second floor did he remember that there’s a lift in the building and the thought made him want to kick himself.

_‘I’ve only got one more,’_ he thought and let out a sigh. As he entered the hallway connected to the flat he shared with Max, he could feel the smell of something cooking and his stomach growled. He unlocked the door of the flat, surprised to feel the smell intensifying and hear music from the kitchen.

“Max? I’m home,” he called out, closing the door and leaving his suitcase in the hallway. There was no reply, making him frown as he trudged further in. Charles could hear Max quietly singing the words to the song playing from his phone, causing him to smile slightly.

He leant against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching Max move around unaware of the fact that Charles was there; the Monègasque was surprised to see something cooking in the oven and the table set for two, a bottle of wine in the middle.

He walked up to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around his middle, earning a surprised yelp and a shove backwards from the Dutchman. “Jesus, Charles, you scared me,” Max breathed out, clutching a hand over his chest before a smile overtook his features. “Hey! You’re home!”

Max turned around in his arms and pressed his lips to Charles’ before moving away and gesturing towards the table, “Go on and sit, dinner will be ready soon.”

“What’s the occasion?” Charles questioned as he sat at one of the dining chairs, eyeing the carefully laid out cutlery.

Max shrugged, “I know you’ve had a pretty shitty week and wanted to do something for you. Now, I know I’m not the best cook, but I tried.” Charles’ heart welled up at his words, full of appreciation for his boyfriend.

He voiced his thanks out loud, causing Max to come to him and press his lips against the top of Charles’ head; Charles couldn’t help but nuzzle into Max’s side, moving away only when the oven timer began beeping.

Max went to take the food out while Charles observed, enjoying the view of a domestic Max. “What have you made?” he asked, receiving the answer in the form of a pan of lasagne getting put in front of him.

“Italian,” Max replied nonetheless. “Even though you might be sick of Italy,” he added as an afterthought, scratching his chin with his oven-mitt covered hand. He took it off and placed it on the nearest surface in the kitchen before sitting across from Charles, taking a knife and cutting the dish into somewhat equal pieces.

When he tried to take one out, it fell apart and he pouted like a child. Charles chuckled slightly, “Do you want me to take it out for you?” he asked, receiving a nod in response.

Once the two of them both had their plates full, Max took the first bite and frowned. “Kinda bland,” he commented before grimacing and spitting it out on a napkin, “And bad, Jesus, the aftertaste hits you.” He put his tongue out like a dog, wiping it hastily with a napkin and then gulping down a glass of water.

Charles rolled his eyes lightly. “It can’t be that bad,” he said before taking a bite and gagging, but holding it down unlike Max, not wanting to make his boyfriend feel bad. “It’s good.” Charles gave him a thumbs up followed by a forced smile as he tried not to throw up.

Max looked at him apologetically, “I’m sorry, I should’ve just ordered something. I just wanted to do something nice for you, but cooking is obviously not for me.”

Charles shook his head, taking Max’s hand across the table and rubbing circles into it. “Thank you, Max. I appreciate it, even if it’s not exactly edible,” he spoke softly, earning a small shrug from his boyfriend. “I’ll fix up something in a minute, you open the wine. Then we’ll go cuddle and sleep, okay?”

Max nodded in response, sighing in despair. “I’m hopeless at cooking,” he mumbled to himself, but his boyfriend heard him and leant in to kiss him.

“Thank you, Max. I love you,” Charles repeated genuinely, earning a smile from Max.

“Anything for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr at altisssimozucca](https://altisssimozucca.tumblr.com/)


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